up into heavenly expression, and the eye beamed with delight, declaring, in terms too plain to be misunderstood, that the presence of God was there, dissipating all the darkness that had hung upon the soul, illuminating the valley of death, and opening wide the portals of the world of light. And, instead of recording instances of this nature as out of the usual course of God's providence, is it not rather to be concluded that they coincide with the general plan of his dealings with mankind? Where there has been true humility, a scriptural distrust of our own character, a painful conflict with temptation, "supplication with strong crying and tears :" it is for the honour of religion itself that there should be some proof of its consoling evidence, by imparting peace to the depressed spirit, under circumstances in which a man of the world would be thrown into absolute despair. This is to exhibit the value of religion, and the power of the Gospel, and the veracity of the promises, in a way the most convincing and irresistible. It compels even scepticism itself to acknowledge, if such be the mighty influence of a near approach to the realms of immortality, upon a mind hitherto harassed by painful doubts and distressing reflections-an influence felt likewise in the immediate view of the last enemy, and while this earthly tabernacle is falling into ruins-how pure must be the felicity, how vast the happiness of the world above! pp. 299-301. The following paragraph occurs in a discourse on the “ Ministry of Reconciliation." The Apostle reminds the Colossians, that they had been "enemies in their minds by wicked works." In his Epistle to the Romans, he speaks in similar terms of himself, and of the other converts to the faith of Christ; and declares universally that the "carnal mind is enmity against God." We would not interpret this phraseology, as if there were felt in the world that same principle of direct hostility towards the Most High, which malevolence is apt to entertain against a fellow-creature. We do not deem it necessary, in order to illustrate the declarations of St. Paul on this subject, to suppose that there exists in in every unrenewed and unregenerate man, an active and malignant spirit of undisguised hatred against the Almighty: of such a spirit many are unconscious, whom reason and Scripture would nevertheless alike convict of practical though silent enmity against him, and whom accordingly the Apostle would invite to be reconciled. Many, it is to be feared, both regard themselves, and are regarded by others, as entitled to the favour of Heaven, and in terms of amity with their Maker, whom, even if acquitted of direct and personal hostility against God, the judgment of the Gospel would still comprehend among his enemies. pp. 313, 314. This shall be our last citation; and our principal reason for making it is, to call attention to the judicious manner in which the author here, and throughout the volume, at the same time that he faithfully unfolds the doctrine of human depravity, yet avoids the error, so common in Evangelical pulpits, of employing language that is coarse, overcharged, and unscriptural, in urging it on the conscience. We are persuaded that a deep conviction of man's radical and entire corruption is the very basis of faith and holiness; and that to conceal or extenuate this doctrine, is treason against the Cross of Christ, and a deadly mischief to the souls of men. But nothing is gained, nay, every thing is lost, by injudicious and exaggerated statements on the subject. It is most true, unhappily, that the whole moral constitution of man is deeply tainted; that his understanding is darkened by sin, his will settled towards evil, and his affections wedded to vanity; that in the ground of his heart he is an enemy to God and to goodness. But though an unregenerate man is sensual and devilish, he is not a beast or a devil; and to hear himself so denominated (and we have heard it) is little calculated to subdue the malignity of his nature, or to touch its sensibilities. The fact is, that, hearing accusations alleged against him, of which, when taken in their strict and proper sense, he is acquitted by the joint verdict of conscience and common sense, he thenceforth regards the preacher as an extravagant fanatic, or an impudent libeller; and steels himself against a doctrine which is radically true, and which he might, by juster measures, have been led to admit, because he has had it presented to his eyes distorted and caricatured. It were greatly to be wished that zealous men would feel the great importance of keeping within the rules and boundaries of Scripture, when setting forth principles which are so obnoxious to the natural man, and yet of such vital importance to salvation. It is not by culling from the Bible, and heaping together indiscriminately, all the strong phrases in which are declared the exceeding sinfulness of sin and the deplorable condition of sinners, that the ends of truth and the conversion of mankind are best promoted. It is by transfusing into our books and sermons the spirit of the Bible; and by so adjusting the sentences we take from that sacred book, as to make them express, in the places to which they are transplanted, what they expressed in their original collocation;it is by this pious and upright care to "speak as the oracles of God," that we shall be likely to reach the carnal heart, and to bring it into subjection to that Gospel "which is the power of God unto salvation." But we must conclude. In parting with Mr. Dealtry's volume of Sermons, we really feel called upon to express a confident hope that it will render an important service to the cause of pure, vital, and Scriptural religion. Among other benefits which it confers upon us, one is, the proof it furnishes that the mysteries of redemption may be honestly exhibited in classical diction, without the help of vulgar cant and a technical phraseology, without the introduction of antiquated terms, uncouth metaphors, and gross allusions. In this book the Christian virtues are exhibited with a chaste adorning," like apples of gold in a network of silver." We shall rejoice to meet Mr. Dealtry again, when he has matured the doctrinal sermons which he allows us to expect and we beseech the Lord to qualify him for that sacred work, by pouring into his soul a double unction of spirituality and Divine love, the imperishable fragrance of which may be emitted from every page of his writings, to the edification, refreshment, and delight of numerous readers. The Pelican Island, and other Poems. By JAMES MONTGOMERY. London: Longman. 1827. Foolscap 8vo. pp. 264. MR. MONTGOMERY is one of the few poets of the present day, who unites much of the refinement and delicate sentimentality of modern taste, with the simple and severe style of our earlier writers. Belonging to no one school, and possessing none of the peculiarities which distinguish any other writer, his genius has been only influenced by the essential purity and sweetness of poetry itself. Sometimes embodying the shadowy loveliness of unreal forms with his own feelings; at others, making music with the simple devotion of the heart; and at others, with a new and splendid combination of metaphor and expression, displaying the beauty or majesty of nature; Montgomery is one of the most unaffected, but sweetest, writers of the day. In the moral beauty of his poetry he is perhaps unrivalled. Other writers may afford powerful and splendid examples of didactic excellence, but we know of none in whose mind the etherial beauty of moral perfection seems so strongly displayed; none, the current of whose thoughts seems so constantly developing some latent principle of our better nature. Using neither the conventional ideas nor phrases common among religious writers, he has touched some of the most interesting topics connected with our faith with a heart-stirring power and we constantly listen to him, as one whose gentle nature has been taught to speak of these things by its own experiences and hopes. There is, if one may be allowed the expression, a sublimity of tenderness in his sentiments; an exaltation of the sensibilities, of the hopes, and fears, and sympathies of our changing state. It is the man who is the poet; and, in his most felicitous passages, his feelings are the poetry. Mr. Montgomery's literary course is a study for the observer of mental phenomena. The greatest charm his style possesses, is derived from his power of elevating while he softens the heart; and if the developement of his genius be observed, it will be seen how much this power has been increased by the fall of time upon the heart, by the farewells and the changes of years, and by the feelings that gradually become stronger as the circumstances, of which every man's fate is the prophecy, become our own. No writer of genius ever wrote in a general manner, without being under the influence of his particular character as a man; and the opinion that the productions of an author are but an ill guide to his real feelings and dispositions, is an error as unphilosophical as it is common. There is an absurdity in the very idea itself which supposes an author capable of strongly exciting feelings in another's mind which he has not himself; of raising emotions in us, without having first thought, felt, and reasoned as we do afterwards; or possessing within them those essences of thought and passion which are to be the archetypes of ours. Undoubtedly, so far as mind is concerned, or as mere intellectuality is considered, so far the writings of an author must be a mirror of his character, and so far have we an inlet into the recesses of his being. But with little trouble we may prove, still further, that the same intellectual principles which gave a peculiar character to his writings, may be discovered throughout his existence; by turns giving and receiving the impulse of his fortunes. Happily for Mr. Montgomery, the passions and feelings, which are only vivified and made to glow with a deeper intensity by genius, have in his case been also sanctified by religion; and he has, therefore, the only principle which can produce a real conformity in action with the pure and sublime conceptions of poetry. It is not in a want of consistency or of truth that the errors of men of genius consist; nor in a want of real admiration for the fair and beautiful in morality; but result from the absence of those strengthening graces, and that constant guidance of religion, which they, more than all other men, especially require. In the earliest compositions of our author, there were few of the signs we should have looked for as preluding his future course. "The Wanderer of Switzerland," though containing some pleasing passages, is, after all, a very indifferent compound of the narrative and pastoral, and has neither the simplicity of the ballad nor the spirit of the romantic style. Of the poems that are published with it, few are at all above mediocrity, with the exception of that entitled "The Pillow," and another, "The. Common Lot," which is a good deal in the style of Mr. Montgomery's later and more successful pieces. "The World before the Flood," which, we believe, was the first of his larger poems, is well imagined, and contains some very beautiful passages. "The return of Javan," "the death of Adam," and "the burial-place of the patriarchs," are of this number; and, had he written little else, would have obtained for their author a considerable share of public respect. "The West-Indies" is throughout a beautiful poem, and worthy of the cause for which it, was composed. Fervent in his love of liberty, and the determined enemy of oppression, we hardly know, in this production of our author, which to admire the most-his deep, thrilling, denunciations against slavery; his passionate and indignant eloquence; or the exquisite pathos of the tenderer passages. But of all the productions of our author, both for design and execution, and as containing a greater variety of beau ties, his "Greenland," as a whole, is unquestionably the finest of his productions. Fitted by its nature, and the innumerably interesting associations connected with it, there was no subject more happily suited to Mr. Montgomery's genius. It at once afforded him room for the play of his fancy and his affections; set him amid the wildest scenes of nature, and joined him to the best and holiest of his kind; and, in the exercise of his art, gave him all the advantages of the devotion and fervency of his spirit. Nothing can be conceived more beautiful than the commencement of this poem, the calm and holy serenity of nature, made still more serene by the presence of the devoted men whom we follow over the deep. There is also more vividness and brilliancy in this than in any other of his works; and we cannot, perhaps, find a passage that will better shew him as a descriptive poet, than the following. It is a description of one of the burning fountains in Iceland. "Hark! from yon cauldron cave, the battle sound Rack'd on the wheels of an ebullient tide, He comes, he comes; th' infuriate Geyser springs |